


Painting the Roses Red

by LawrenceKinden



Series: Fauxtobiographical Summer [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Hot, Sex, Shower Sex, Spanking, Summer, Teenager, Temper, barebottom, girls, shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7693180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series 2 of the Fauxtobiographical Summer [Story Contains Spanking]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

My wife and I sat up in bed late, reading. It'd been a hot day and it was still too hot to go to sleep. The girls were scattered about our house and the Smith's. As far as I knew, there hadn't been a single spanking all day, which must have been some kind of record.

"Does it seem to you like there have been a lot of spankings all of a sudden?" I asked.

Maureen shrugged. "We have six girls around all of a sudden."

"And... and you're okay with spanking them?"

She gave me a funny look. "I was spanked at home by my parents. So were you. I admit, Wanda's style of spanking is a little more intense than I like, but her kids are wonderful."

I nodded. "You know, I spanked Isabel yesterday."

"Yes. You told me. She broke the door. Are you... are you having a problem with this?"

"I don't know." Which was a lie.

"I thought you kinda', you know, liked spankings."

"Yeah," I said, "that's the problem. If I smack your butt, it's sexy. But..."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

~*~

 

The Smith's weren't our only neighbors of course. Our neighborhood was practically bursting with children of various ages, and sometimes the Smith girls and Isabel would be somewhere that wasn't our house or their house. I didn't worry overly much. It was a safe neighborhood with lots of conscientious parents. Isabel made sure to check in with Maureen and the Smith girls checked in with Wanda, or when she was at work Elizabeth or us.

So, I was surprised when Elizabeth burst in on our bedroom one late afternoon looking frantic.

We'd had the house to ourselves and had been taking advantage of the rare opportunity. We weren't mid-coitus, but I'd pulled her panties down and she was spooned up close to me, my hand wrapped around her generous hips to massage her wonderfully moist vulva. Mercifully, we had a sheet over us.

"I can't find the girls." Elizabeth's voice was high pitched, her breathing panicked, her face streaked with tears.

I pulled my hand back and Maureen sat up. This put me in a bit of an awkward position as I was shirtless and my shorts made it obvious that I was aroused. Maureen had just pulled the sheet off me as she sat up. Apparently, however, I was the only one embarrassed by the situation.

"Which girls?" Maureen asked.

"Anna and Isabel and Jade." Elizabeth wailed piteously.

Maureen got out of bed, pulling up her panties without any apparent embarrassment and put her arms around Elizabeth. "We'll find them," she said. "When did you last see them?" She picked up a pair of jeans like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I grabbed at the sheet and pulled it up to my neck as I sat up.

"They were in the treehouse."

"When was this?"

Elizabeth hunched her shoulders and looked embarrassed. "This morning."

"You haven't seen them since this morning?" Now Maureen sounded angry.

"I know. I'm sorry!" Elizabeth wailed.

I missed the next bit of the conversation as I was looking for my own clothes. Somehow my t-shirt and jeans had disappeared. I looked up when Maureen said my name.

"What?"

"We're going to go look for the girls. Are you coming?"

"Yeah," I said, blushing. "I'll join you in a minute."

Once they left, I got dressed, but by the time I was out of the house, they were already gone. To be honest, I wasn't that worried. It was a wonderful neighborhood, and I was imagining the girls having wandered off to another neighbor's or the park or something and were innocently playing, unaware of the panic they'd caused. My buoyant mood was likely result of my recently amorous situation. Though we'd been interrupted, it had been a slow and sweet session of incremental love-making, and I was looking forward to getting back to it.

I figured Maureen and Elizabeth would be canvasing the nearby houses, I strolled out to the park keeping my eyes and ears open.

When I got there, the girls were obvious. They were with Rachel who was finishing up soccer camp for the day and they were all coming home. Isabel rushed me and wrapped her arms around me in a big hug. She'd become very tactile since her fight with her dad and her spanking from me. Anna and Jade and Rachel came up behind.

"You three had Elizabeth worried," I said.

Rachel snickered. "Uh oh, big sister is gonna spank you."

"Nuh uh," Anna objected. "We left a note and everything like we're supposed to. 'Lizabeth was just too busy smooching on her boyfriend to notice."

"She had her boyfriend over?" I asked sharply, remembering the incident of a few nights ago.

Anna nodded, making a face. "He's a jerk. He called me squirt and told me to go away. Threatened to pull my hair."

"I see," I replied, not sure what else to do. We all started walking home.

"So," said Rachel, her tone teasing. "Are you gonna spank Elizabeth, Mr. K? She's not allowed to have her boyfriend over."

I shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"You spanked me," Isabel piped up."

"I thought you didn't spank," Jade said, and it sounded like she might be jealous.

"Yeah," said Anna and she folded her arms and actually pouted at me.

Isabel beamed.

I didn't know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.

When we got home, I confirmed the presence of the note, just where it was supposed to be, then phoned Maureen and told her the situation. She and Elizabeth came to the Smith's where the other girls were already playing in the pool. Elizabeth, disconsolate, went to her room without a word.

"You're going to have to spank her," Maureen told me without preamble.

I shook my head.

"Wanda will be exhausted when she gets home and won't be able to do it. Then they'll fight and they'll be miserable toward each other and... It'll just be simpler—"

"Then why don't you do it?"

"Because she's seventeen and she won't take it seriously from me."

"But she will from me?"

Maureen hesitated. "She... she told me the reason she lost track of the kids was that she had her boyfriend over. She told me you caught them a few nights ago."

I nodded.

"You didn't tell me."

"I didn't think I needed to butt in."

She sighed and put her hands on my shoulders. "I know you don't like it, and I know it makes you... uncomfortable, but you've got to. You know their dad left them when Elizabeth was ten. She wants a daddy, and I think it's going to be you."

"Not all daddies spank."

"She expects it."

"That's not a good enough reason."

She frowned at me.

I frowned at her.

We didn't get back to our lovemaking that afternoon.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Maureen was still mad at me. After breakfast, during which we didn't talk about my not spanking Elizabeth, she asked me to clean up the kitchen and went to her sewing room. But I'd no sooner gotten started than she came back and informed me that Wanda had already texted her about the fight she'd had with Elizabeth last night, like it was my fault. Then she went back to her sewing room.

I bit my tongue on a reply. I tried to figure out if she really didn't understand my predicament and decided she must not. After all, I'd kept from her just how inappropriate some of my fantasies could get. I'd kept from her the ubiquity of my obsession. Spanking Isabel had been rough, but she was just a little girl. Spanking a young woman would be a whole other problem.

Unfortunately, in my study, I found that I hadn't gotten away from the problem. I could hear shouting from the house next door and found that a second story window was open and Elizabeth was fighting with her mother. The words were indistinct, but the tone was obvious. I thought I was about to overhear a spanking, but after a while, the fight ended with a slammed door.

I sighed.

Bailee showed up soon after that and we studied algebra. It was getting to the point where I wasn't so much helping her to learn it as she was teaching it to me as a way of learning. I don't think she realized it, but she was much better at math than she thought. When we were done, Bailee suddenly turned shy.

"Um... Mr. K? I have a favor to ask."

I nodded. "All right."

"If mom asks, would you tell her that you spanked me?"

Flabbergasted, I sputtered embarrassingly. "Why?" I eventually managed.

"Well..." she looked away and twisted at her skirt. "I... She asked me how it was going and if I was behaving and whether or not you'd spanked me. I... I thought she... It seemed like..."

"Do you think I should have spanked you?" I asked, my thoughts and emotions tumbling about, making me queasy. I looked at her dark, bare legs and wondered what kind of panties she was wearing under her pale yellow dress. I wondered what it would be like to pull them down. I wondered...

She shrugged. "I guess I've been pretty good."

I put a hand on her shoulder and she jumped, looking up at me, her eyes wide. For a moment, I considered spanking her then and there, for no reason in particular.

"You're a sweetheart, Bailee. You don't need a spanking, and I don't need to lie to your mother about it. I'll just tell her the truth."

She shook her head. "If you do that, then she'll know I lied to her and I'll be in trouble."

I sighed. "Well, how about we just don't bring it up?"

She smiled at me. "But would you? If you had to?"

I thought about spanking Isabel and not spanking Elizabeth. "What do you think?" It was a cop out answer, but I had nothing better to offer.

But Bailee looked at me with confidence. "I think you would, but only if I really needed it. Not like Lizzy who spanks just because."

"And do you think you need a spanking?" I asked, thinking that'd be the end of it.

But Bailee suddenly looked thoughtful and said, "I guess... I shouldn't have lied to mom. So... I guess... um... yeah I do."

She looked at me, so calm and confident, and I had to take some deep breaths to keep from having a break down.

"Bailee, that's not what I meant."

"But, I lied. If I tell mom, she'll be really disappointed. Especially with her and Lizzy fighting. Please can't you just do it?"

She started to cry. Even in the midst of that I couldn't help but appreciate the irony of a girl crying because she thought I wouldn't spank her.

"All right," I said. "If that's how you feel about it... I'll spank you."

And she smiled at me. She actually smiled at me.

I frowned. "You understand this is going to hurt, right? You understand that this isn't a game?"

She nodded and her smile faded.

"Do you want to change your mind?" I asked.

But she shook her head. And without prompting, she crawled over my lap before I was ready for her. She even reached behind with one hand and pulled up the skirt of her dress. Her panties were white and obviously not freshly laundered. My breathing caught in my throat and my heart hammered in my chest and my skin went all tingly and numb, but it wasn't as bad as last time. This time, I knew that I could do it and not only would I not be considered sick for doing so, but might even been lauded.

Briefly I debated whether or not to take down her panties. I knew she'd expect it, and certainly I wanted to, but even though I'd not be reprimanded for it, it still felt wrong. So I spanked her with her panties up. I'd given Isabel fifteen, counting unconsciously, so I gave Bailee the same, spanking her quickly and deliberately, fifteen sharp, punitive swats that set her to kicking and crying. And, as last time, I felt like a dirty heel. I was a grown man hitting a little girl, using a thin veneer of discipline as an excuse to indulge in my inappropriate fantasy.

And I hated it.

At least I could take some solace in that.

When it was done, she hugged me.


	3. Chapter 3

In only a few days, I'd gone from being certain that I would never, should never, could never give a spanking, a real spanking, to giving two, one of them even bare bottomed. I felt confused, out of my head. I believed that spanking a child was wrong, but Wanda Smith disagreed and Maureen was siding with her. Even the kids thought spanking was, if not necessary, at least appropriate. And now, it seemed, everywhere I went, spanking was prevalent.

After Bailee went home for her online math test, I told Maureen I needed to clear my head. I knew she knew, but she didn't mention it. I grabbed my writing bag and strode into the heat and shine of summer.

I was walking to the park when I spied a soccer ball bouncing into the street. Like a bad movie, a little boy chased it while a car came around the corner.

I shouted and hurried forward, waving at the car. The driver noticed me and hit the brakes. The boy stopped, suddenly petrified. It was over in a matter of moments. The car went around us and on its way— the driver and I sharing a look and a nod and a wave. I picked up the ball and turned to hand it to the boy who was looking at me with wide eyes. His mother was hurrying across the front yard, her face red, a combination of fury and fear.

"Robert!" she shouted.

The boy tensed, his eyes filling with tears. When she reached us, she spanked his short-clad bottom with one heavy swat that cracked across the summer afternoon. I jumped and blushed.

The woman apologized to me. "And thank you for that. I've told him time after time to be careful." I handed her the ball and she took little Robert back into the house. I wondered if there would be further spanking once in private though I tried not to.

At the park, soccer camp was on. Boys and girls in t-shirts and shorts and shinguards ran drills, passing, shooting, dribbling. I waved at Rachel, but she didn't notice me. And even here, I noticed, spanking was not absent. One of the coaches, a young man probably still in college, gave one of the boys an encouraging swat as they drilled.

And then, as I wandered further, past the park, a pair of girls playing tag in a front yard, one swatting the other and both giggling.

I ended up at a coffee shop just off the campus of the local university. I ordered a large iced chai, put my notebook in front of me, and started writing. I wrote out all of my confused thoughts and emotions. Was it possible to be both infatuated with spanking and hate it? Could I have erotically charged fantasies about spanking girls but disapprove of it in real life? Having tumbled down the rabbit hole, twice, was there a way out from underhill? Certainly I didn't desire sex with the girls, but wasn't my associating sex with spanking close enough to make me sick? I left the coffee shop three hours later and two chais heavier without any answers. 

~*~

When I got home, I went to the bathroom off our bedroom, stripped off and stepped into the shower. Despite the summer heat, I turned it on hot. I let the steam fill my eyes, my nostrils, my mouth and tried to imagine it choking the confusion from me. Hitting people was wrong, I'd always believed that. Hitting kids, especially, was wrong. I'd always, always, always been able to keep a strong hold on the difference between what turned me on and what was appropriate for real life. Spanking kids was not for me. Spanking was a prelude to sex. End of story.

Except I'd spanked my nice and my neighbor; I'd punished them, and they'd accepted it. They'd welcomed it even. In a way.

I was shaken from my reverie when Maureen stepped into the shower with me. She was looking at me seriously as she stepped up close and wrapped her arms around my waist. She pulled herself close to me, her soft skin melding seamlessly with mine, the hot showering encasing us in a world of steam and heat and comfort. She didn't seem to be mad at me anymore.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize what a big deal this was for you."

"How could you not? I told you."

"I'm sorry," she said again, and leaned her head against my shoulder.

I sighed, the weight of my ponderings heavy upon me, the nature of what I'd done still squirming inside me like the ouroboros.

"Do you... do you maybe want to spank me?"

I perked up at that.

"You can if you want. It'd make you feel better, right?"

I wasn't entirely certain about that. My desire for and obsession with spanking as a sexual fetish was the whole problem.

Maureen turned so that she faced the showerhead, putting her back to me. I slid my arms around her waist, up her torso and grasped a breast in each hand. I put my face to her neck and nibbled lightly, knowing exactly what got her going. He gasped and leaned forward, her forehead against the shower wall, the water falling on her back, her backside pressed firmly into my quickly hardening sex.

Maureen's not a nice, big butt. She worries herself over it sometimes, but I assure her, again and again, that I like it. So though she was pressed firmly against me, there was enough bare that I could indulge. I slapped her butt hard and she whimpered. The water between my hand and her bottom made the spank sharper. I did it again, and again, and she squeaked. Usually, if I spanked her too hard, she'd tell me so and I'd stop. Usually she preferd me to spread my spanks out, so that it hurt her less. But as I spanked her again, harder this time, right in the same spot, she only cried out. She didn't tell me to stop, so I didn't.

She bent lower, bracing herself against the shower wall and making her soft, wet vulva readily available. I put a hand on her waist to balance myself, and with ease of dampness, slipped inside. She was warm and slippery. She pressed against me so that I nearly lost my balance. We both groaned with it. I put my hands on either side of her waist and pushed myself inside as far as I could go. I held us there for a time, reveling in the full-body tingle it gave me.

Then I spanked her and she pressed against me and the next several minutes were lost in chest-heaving, butt-spanking, teeth-clenching love making.

When we were done, we let the steamy water wash us clean. I fetched us a pair of towels. After the heat of the shower, even the heat of the day felt cool, and we spread out upon the bed and let our exhausted bodies drift off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Maureen had wanted to go shopping and had taken Wanda with her. A forced fun outing, I suppose. Liz was still grounded, or whatever punishment they'd worked out, and was holed up in her room, pouting. Rachel was out playing basketball with friends, and Bailee was out at a movie with friends.

Or so I gathered. I had been in my study, working on my perpetual novel, when my lovely wife had come in and told me that I'd have the littlest of the girls—Anna, Isabel, and Jade—while everyone else was out.

I blinked at her, still caught up in a story about girls with superpowers overcoming overwhelming odds.

"What?"

I'm taking Wanda out. She needs some fun."

"Oh. Um... okay. Where are the girls?"

She sighed at me. "I just told you. They're downstairs."

"Oh. Right. I'm watching the girls."

She came over to me and bent to kiss my forehead. "Thanks. You're the best, my love."

I stood and sighed and stretched. The girls were on the couch in the living room watching a cartoon. Isabel was sandwiched between Anna and Jade, and I was glad she'd made such fast friends with the neighbor girls. She was still having a hard time dealing with her parents' divorce. They barely noticed me, so I told them to come get me if they needed me and went back up to my study and my story.

I had only settled in when I heard the tell-tale giggle of a girl at my door, trying to sneak. When I spun my chair around, I saw Anna, the youngest of the three, scramble away, giggling.

I shook my head and turned back to my work.

But Anna wasn't though. "Aren't you going to chase me?"

I spun back around. "Chase you?"

"Yeah. Aren't I supposed to stay out of your study?"

I shrugged. True, my study was my only sanctuary, and I vaguely remembered Maureen telling the girls that they were to stay out of it, but just then I wasn't too concerned about it.

Anna pouted at me.

"I thought you were watching a cartoon."

"It's boring."

"Hmm..." I stood and stretched lazily. Anna just stood there, still pouting at me.

I lunged for her and she screamed like she'd been stung by a bee, startling us both. I landed hard on my knees, my eyes wide and my heart pounding. She had her fists on her head and was shifting back and forth as though she wanted to run, but her body wasn't quite participating. She looked like she was going to cry.

I laughed. "You said I was supposed to chase you."

She nodded, then giggled. She took a few steps backward from me. I wasn't sure now if she was scared or playing. But then she grinned.

"Come and get me!"

She spun and sprinted for the stairs and I went after her. Of course, I was faster and could have grabbed her at any time, but I lumbered after her and she ran into the living room, squealing at the top of her voice and vaulted over the back of the couch to where the other girls were still watching the cartoon.

"Hey!" Jade shouted.

"Careful!" Isabel added.

Anna peaked her head over the back of the couch and said, "The couch is base."

"Hmm..." I said again. "You girls be good. I'm going back up to my study to work."

As I sat in my study, I didn't bother getting back into the novel. Instead, I pretended to work, waiting for the giggle I was certain would come. I heard the creeping creek of foot on floorboard first.

I waited.

I could hear them breathing.

I waited.

I felt someone creeping closer and closer and I waited until she was close enough to touch before spinning around.

Jade jumped back and squealed as I faced her. Behind her, still in the hallway, were Isabel and Anna. Jade tried to spin and run, but she tripped and fell. In the hall, Isabel and Anna sprinted for the stairs, giggling all the way. Jade scrambled to her feet, but it was too late, I was upon her and soon had her by the shoulders.

But, now that I had her, what was I to so with her?

"Um..."

"Oh no, Mr. K. Please don't spank me!" she cried in melodramatic tones. And she giggled.

I hesitated, but she was giggling and squirming and, after all, I had caught her. So, I went down on one knee and pushed her down over my half-a-lap. She was wearing a pair of pale blue, nylon shorts, and I popped her on the bottom three times before I let her squirm away, giggling, and she ran down the hall and back downstairs.

I went back to my desk and took a deep breath.

And it didn't feel weird. I hadn't hurt her, it'd clearly been a game, and in no way was that playful little spanking sexualized. I was beyond relieved.

And so the afternoon passed. I pretended to work and they tried to sneak up on me. Eventually, I realized they were trying to sneak something off my desk without my realizing. I let them get close before spinning about in my chair and lunging for them. Sometimes I let them get away, but sometimes I caught them and spanked them gently while they laughed. Once I caught both Isabel and Anna at the same time and had to sit on the floor with my legs out straight to put them both over my lap. Once I snagged Jade by the shorts and accidentally tugged them down, so I spanked her on her little pink panties. Once, after giving Anna her handful of gentle pops, she didn't get up, claiming I hadn't spanked her hard enough, so I spanked her sharply and she yelped.

I thought they would quickly tire of the game, but they kept at it for nearly two hours.

When, eventually, they didn't come back up the stairs, I crept down quietly and found them all asleep on the couch, cuddled like a bunch of puppies.

Back in my office, I took the time to consider. Perhaps spanking could be more than one thing. It had been sexualized by me for so long that, perhaps, I'd lost some perspective. Perhaps it could be harmless fun. Perhaps it could be loving discipline. Perhaps I didn't need to be so afraid of it.

Perhaps.


	5. Chapter 5

As June bowed out and July took stage, the summer got hot. ACs ran high and tempers ran higher. Wanda was irritated on those evenings we were able to spend with her: irritated with her job, irritated with her girls, and, though she didn't say so outright, irritated with me.

From the girls, I heard she was spanking more than usual. From my own observations, I knew Maureen was spanking them more than usual.

I stayed away from the spanking as much as I could. Despite my recent revelation, I wanted to be careful, to take it slowly. But then, late one afternoon, Elizabeth Smith knocked on the door of my study while I was deep in planning a space opera lesson for next year's SF class.

"Hmm?" I didn't look up from my work, assuming it was Bailee and that we'd soon be studying math.

"Hey, Mr. K."

Startled, I looked up to fine Elizabeth, her hands behind her back, her gaze on her toes. She was dressed for the hottest of summers in shorts, sandals, and a t-shrit. She had her hair pulled back into a puffy ponytail. She sucked at her lips nervously.

"Come in, Elizabeth. What do you need?"

She stayed standing in my doorway. "So, you know mom was mad about... about what you saw a couple weeks ago? And... well, we've been fighting ever since."

I nodded and waited, a thrill of excitement playing aobut nervously in my stomach.

"And I thought about what you said, about me justifying my bad behavior..." she trailed off and finally met my gaze.

I found myself wanting to look away, but I forced myself to hold her gaze. "As I recall, I also told you I wasn't going to tell on you and I wasn't going to spank you. It was your business to deal with as you saw fit."

She shrugged. "I know. And... look, I'm not going to stand here and tell you I want you to spank me. I hate getting spanked. But... but I see how it can be helpful sometimes. When the little girls are bad and I spank them, it helps, right?"

I had no answer, so I just waited.

"Anyway," she said, "Mom said she won't spank me either, but I know she'd feel better if she did, or if someone did anyway. Aunt Mo's sweet and I think she'd do it if I asked, but I..."

"But you're not going to ask for a spanking," I said.

She nodded and looked away.

I stood up.

"Elizabeth, I think you're a sweet girl. I think you spank your sisters too much, and should ease off your mother a bit, but you're sweet, and any boy who got the chance to smother you with kisses in the back of a car should know he's lucky enough to stop when you say stop. And I don't think you should be spanked for what ammounts to your personal sex life. However, I do think you should be spanked for being rude to your mother."

I nearly choked on my own words. I didn't really think she should be spanked for being rude. I didn't really think anyone should be spanked as a form of punishment. I didn't believe in spanking. So it was time to end the conversation and sent her on her way.

"But I'm not your father. Spanking you isn't my decision." I stood up and crossed my study to where she stood in the doorway. As soon as I was within range, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around me and began to cry. That wasn't what I'd been expecting.

She didn't cry for long. Soon she was taking deep breaths, taking a step back, and apologizing.

"I'm sorry, Mr. K. I just... You'd be a good dad, that's all."

I felt a tear or two coming to my own eyes. And that's when I decided to change my mind. If Elizabeth thought I'd be a good dad, well, maybe it was time to act like one. I took hold of her arm above the elbow.

"Elizabeth, you're right, you shouldn't need to ask for a spanking. As an adult with your best interests at heart, I can afford to be concerned with your private antics without actually doing anything about it. But if I'm gong to be like a father, a good father, well..."

I hesitated. I didn't really think she needed to be spanked. I was justifying my decision to both of us. Really, I just wanted to spank her. I knew that her mother would approve, I was trying to get her to approve too.

And then she did.

"I... yes, daddy." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I mean... yes, sir. Mr. K."

I sat in my office chair and stood her at my right side. She knew what to do from there and was quickly over my lap. For all that she was seventeen, she wasn't a very big girl. When she put her palms flat on the floor of my study, her toes barely touched the floor on the other side. Her t-shirt slid down her back, revealing her smooth, dark skin beneath and I had to take a deep breath and bite my tongue.

I tried to focus on the task at hand and hooked a finger in the waist of her shorts and pulled them down to mid-thigh. Elizabeth whimpered and squirmed and I had to take another deep breath. Her panties were plain and white and these too I pulled down. Her bottom now bare, I found myself staring at her, entranced, and I felt myself reacting as most men would with a nubile beauty positioned over his lap. My erection came hard and fast.

I should have stopped, but reasoned that it would be even more awkward. I'd have to explain why I was stopping and to say that it was because I found her and this situation unequivocally sexy just wouldn't work.

So I spanked her.

"Owie!"

I watched her bottom bounce, the dark red of my handprint quickly lost to her dark skin. I spanked her again and she swallowed her squeal, wiggling only a little. I spanked her again and she kicked and grunted. A couple of days ago, I had thougth I'd discovered that a spanking didn't have to be sexy, but this one certainly was.

I looked down and away and found that her t-shirt, which had slid down her torso as she went over my lap, had slipped right over her breasts, her large, dark nipples hard.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Mr. K.?"

"Yes?" I didn't open my eyes. I was trying to think non-sexy thoughts.

"I... Are you all right?"

With yet another deep breath, I looked down at her. She was looking at me over her shoulder, oblivious to the effect her bareness was having on me.

"I'm fine. I just... I'm not sure I should be spanking you." I felt relieved to have said it out loud. I could let her up, apologize, and we could move on with our lives.

But Elizabeth began to cry again. "Oh, please, just do it? I just want it over with. Please?"

I couldn't stand it. I didn't know what to do. But I'd come this far, I reasoned or justified or whatever. So I nodded.

I put one hand on her waist and pulled her in close. On my lap as she was I'm sure my erection pressed into her tummy, but she didn't say anything if it did. I looked up along the line of her body, from her free-swing breasts to her bare bottom. I realized I'd rested my hand at the space between bottom and thighs, just over the hollow that hid her vulva. And when I lifted my hand, they were clearly visible. I kept my gaze there as I resumed the spanking.

I enjoyed it: every spank, every bounce of her bottom, every squeak and kick and buck. I enjoyed the darkening of her bottom and thighs. I enjoyed the whipping of her hair as she squirmed and cried. I enjoyed watching her breasts bounce as she kicked. I enjoyed the peaking of her vulva from between her thighs.

When it was done, a surprisingly short time, Elizabeth slumped over my lap and cried for a time. I dropped my hands to my side and closed my eyes, trying to ease my excitement. It didn't work. 

When she stood up, I opened my eyes and was treated to the sight of Elizabeth, a smooth, pretty, seventeen-year-old girl tugging her shirt down over her breasts, then pulling up first her panties, then her shorts. Her sandals had been kicked across the room and she didn't bother to retrieve them. Her cheeks were red, but her tears had stopped. Her bottom lip was out in a pout. 

I stood, uncomfortably, and again he hugged me. I tried to twist to make it a one-armed hug, but she full on hugged me and again she was pressed firmly into my erection. Again she either didn't notice or said nothing. I'm glad I don't know which. Then she kissed my cheek and said goodbye and was gone.

Sometime later, I collected her sandals and put them downstairs at the door where were several pairs of shoes, sandals, and whatnot. She'd be sure to find them.

I could hear the laughter of kids playing outside.

I had enjoyed spanking her.

Elizabeth was wrong. I'd make a terrible father. 

~*~

My wife and I sat up in bed late, reading. It'd been a hot day and it was still too hot to go to sleep. The girls were scattered about our house and the Smith's.

I explained about Elizabeth's spanking.

"Well it's about time," Maureen said.

"Didn't you hear me? It was... I liked it. It was... stimulating."

Maureen shrugged. "You didn't have sex with her, did you?"

"Of course not!"

"Well then that's that. I love you. The girls love you. I know you would never do anything to hurt them or me. So your body reacted. So what?"

"But I liked it."

"Well, you know what? I kind of like spanking them too. It's kinda cathartic. And you know what else? I kind of liked you spanking me like you did a few days ago. We can't always help what turns us on. We can help how we react to it."

She kissed me, pressing herself into me, sliding her thighs over my hips and trapping me. I put my hands on her waist, enjoying the feeling of her weight on me, letting her wash away the doubt and guilt.


End file.
